


I should've stayed

by ireneadlered



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock AU - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, Death, M/M, so very much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireneadlered/pseuds/ireneadlered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a short au ficlet in which Sherlock returns too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I should've stayed

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, made for tumblr, for my graphic as an tiny bit ficlet.  
> And yes, this was my first ficlet so..

He gazed up to see John’s face. He was still holding Sherlock’s bloody jacket. Greg looked down to his desk and found a spot to stare at for a moment. It was two hours after his leap, but it felt like years already. It couldn’t be easy for John either. Greg Lestrade once again lifted his eyes slowly to see Dr John Watson, clutching the consulting detectives jacket, his head down and his eyes staring the blood stained jacket that he had insisted keeping. It was evidence, but they figured John had gone through enough. Let him keep the jacket. A heavy sigh passed his lips.

 

There was nothing but the silence in the office. Neither of them wanted to say anything. Until Greg opened his mouth.

” John, I..” He started. What could he say to make him feel better? The poor bloke just saw his best friend die. ” I’m sorry for your loss.” Was the only thing Greg managed to say. Later on, he realized that he wasn’t just telling this to John, but to himself as well.

Slowly, but surely John started to drift away. They saw each other less and less. John wouldn’t go out for a pint nor he would get in touch. He hardly ever answered his phone either, but Lestrade told himself it was the grief. Let John grief for his friend.

That was a year ago.

_How are you mate? GL_

_Some of the blokes invited you to watch the match with us._

_You should come so you’ll get your mind off things. GL_

_John. It’s been a year. GL Feeling a little tired tonight._

_Maybe some other time. JW_

 

Time went on and Greg busied himself with work. It was a night, just like every other and he’d already fallen asleep when he got the phone call from Donovan.

” He’s dead.” It took Greg a long time to understand this.

” Who?” He asked groggily, rubbing his eyes and eyeing the clock.

” He shot himself. Left a note, saying he was sorry and that he couldn’t do this any longer.”

 

Have you ever felt it? The feeling when you hear that your close friend is dead? The cold drop and the sudden sensation of drowning? You can’t get air into your lungs and your brain is desperately trying to grasp the idea of your friend being dead. Greg still couldn’t believe it, not even when he was staring John’s unmoving body, a pool of deep red liquid next to his head.

 

Lestrade covered his face with his hand. He was about to tell everybody to go outside from the flat, when a hurried footsteps stomped up the stairs. The next thing Greg knew was the tall, dark figure standing at the doorway, panting and an expression of pure pain on his face. Oh bollocks was the only thing Lestrade could think of at this moment.

” Sh -“

” Out.” The man ordered.

” Look - “

” I said **out**!” He roared.

 

Greg didn’t say anything. He turned around, barking orders to his employees and watched them slowly move out from 221B. He was at the doorway, when he dared to glance behind him only to see Sherlock’s back, shaking and silently sobbing while holding the unmoving body of John Watson.


End file.
